


Carpe Diem; Or That Time The Future Didn't Matter

by fedexmaxieboi



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bottom!Bucky, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gay Bucky Barnes, Howling Commandos - Freeform, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, Lowkey Crack, M/M, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Sorry Not Sorry, deadpool might show up, honestly just a middle finger to the russos, honestly this is all self indulgent, im gay and sad okay, just so many ideas, lets hope my mum doesn't see this, loki will probably show up, mostly stucky, peggy doesn't die in civil war, probably will get angsty, theyre absolute geezers, this might not even end up being a cohesive story, top!steve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2020-04-23 19:23:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19157377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fedexmaxieboi/pseuds/fedexmaxieboi
Summary: carpe diem: used to urge someone to make the most of the present time and give little thought to the future.Steve loved Bucky. Captain Rogers loved Sargent Barnes. Captain America loved the Winter Soldier. So it only makes sense that Steve loves Bucky.Doing what the Russo Brothers were too cowardly to do!





	1. Prologue

Steve was nervous to say the least. How do you go up to a 90+ year old woman who probably doesn't remember you and say "Hey, remember when I died 70 years ago? Well, here I am alive and still 26 years old," without causing a heart attack? The answer is: you don't. Not easily at least. So when Peggy recognised him and  _didn't_ shit her pants or murder him, Steve felt pretty good. He even returned with small gifts, an apology of sorts. Peggy would refuse anything for herself, but as long as Steve brought food or something for her family, she took it.

"I want something from you," Peggy admitted one day. Steve felt his stomach drop out of his ass at the same moment he felt it about to come out his throat. "Don't look like that, Rogers." The teasing name should have calmed Steve, but it didn't. Sweat trickled down Steve's arm, dampening his button up. His face was blank, but anyone who knew him would be able to tell something was happening behind his eyes. "I have lived, Steve. I fell in love. I made mistakes. I made choices I'm proud of. I had beautiful children. I had beautiful grandchildren. I had great grandchildren. I saw the world change. I loved my husband just as I loved my best girl. I care for you, Steve. That's why I'm going to say this: I don't love you."

"Okay." Steve's mouth was an even, flat line.

"Live, Steve Rogers." Peggy held Steve's hand. "Find your family. Don't come back unless you've found them. I'm not a part of you right now. You need to find what is."

In 2017, Steve was finally ready to see Peggy again. He understood what she meant, now, about family. About finding himself. So he allowed himself to search her up. Peggy lived in a small house with her youngest grandson, Damien. His home was located in Brooklyn, a place Steve had known all too well for many years. But that was the past, and Steve was trying to stay present.

With two hesitant knocks and one confident, Steve announced his arrival to the Carter home.

"Hello, how can I help you?" A young, sleep deprived looking man opened the door without looking at Steve.

"I'd like to speak with Peggy Carter." That seemed to spark the lad's interest. He looked up to Steve's eyes.

"Steve Rogers," Damien breathed.

"Damien Carter. Is your grandma home?"

"Yes, yeah, she is. Kitchen." Damien looked back into the house. "Why don't you come in." He opened the door for Steve.

Steve hated social niceties now more than ever. He didn't care about how many grandchildren were born while he was away again or who received what name for what reason. He was here for Peggy and, maybe even more so, himself.

"I fell in love," Steve told her as soon as they were alone.

"What's her name?" Peggy spooned sugar into a tea cup.

"Bucky." Peggy laughed at that.

"How long have you known?" She stirred the tea. Her expression was content, but not surprised.

"For as long as I can remember. On a good day, since 1927."

"And a bad day?" She inquired.

"1934." Steve sipped his own tea. They sat in a comfortable silence. 

"And how is he?"

"Gorgeous. After everything he... is still someone that makes me want to wake up in the morning. He loves Wakanda-- that's where we have stayed for the past year. He has been deprogrammed and now works with the princess to learn coping mechanisms and skills for the modern day. He loves dancing and letting the children braid his hair and making pottery. He likes when we visit Brooklyn and see the places we used to go around. To him it isn't sad, no, he thinks. it is fascinating how technology and time has altered our neighbourhood. We stay at Stark Towers when we come back. He likes to speech Russian with Natasha and signs to Clint at 100 miles an hour. Tony pulls his chain a lot, but they get along. The first time Tony made a joke about Bucky I thought I was going to be tranquillising them both to stop a fight. Instead, Bucky joked back. I saw him smile again that day. Some days I find Bruce teaching Bucky all about science stuff that is way too smart for me. Bucky is so excited to learn. It brings me back to when we were kids, fooling around behind closed doors and pretending to learn for the good of girls everywhere. Bucky claims he is learning from Bruce so he can cure cancer, but we both knows he loves science. Tony even tinkers with Bucky. They made a little robot that makes sushi. Peter, Tony's kid, could probably steal Bucky from me if he were a few years older and a couple inches taller. Bucky adores him, takes him on field trips and gives him the little pottery things he makes because Peter teaches him about the internet and lets him look at videos and stories that have his same kinda humour. Pete made him a macaroni necklace and now Bucky tells me that when I propose I better make him a macaroni ring." Steve fiddles with the bracelet around his wrist. It is small, metal, and engraved.

_Until the end of the line._

"When we are in Wakanda we spend our days on a little farm. Buck has helped raise some goats with the aid of locals. One of them he calls Washcloth because he liked the sound of that. The other one is called Cheezit Van Hostess after some snacks he likes. Washcloth is pregnant. He always says to me 'We ain't fit to be grandpas, Stevie.' I know he's playin', talking about the goats like they are kids, but I also know he loves being with the children. Shuri, the Wakandan princess, is Peter's age. They are friends and often drag Bucky into their games. Buck likes the little ones too, in the village. They call him White Wolf. They like to play with the goats, see his metal arm, play with his hair, bring flowers, and swim. Bucky says if he were a dame we would have a whole village of our own."

"Is that a comment basked on your sex life or how taken he is with the kids?" Peggy teased. Steve lets out a happy sigh.

"He is perfect, Peggy. He is family. So are the others too. Nat, Clint, Peter, Tony, Sam. Hell, even Thor and Bruce." Steve had a smile on his face, going up to his eyes, and a sort of happy radiance.

"You're living, Steve."

"I know." He nods to show said understanding. "I want you to meet him-- all of them really. This is just the beginning for me."

"I'm happy for you. Maybe one day we will meet."

"But?"

"But you should go see him. Go home and kiss him. You miss him." And Peggy always was right.


	2. Days Like This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Days like this he almost believes in God.

You know that feeling when you're so happy your heart aches? You feel like you can finally breathe after being under water. You can finally feel the warmth of summer's first sun. You feel like a kid on Christmas, a parent meeting their child for the first time, a person falling in love, all at the same time. You feel so thoroughly human and  _good_ that your eyes feel teary and you could laugh or smile or say to hell with the rules and sweep that fella you've been thinking about off his feet. Most often this feeling is a simple, pure happiness returning to your bones after what feels like an eternity of numbing pain. Maybe its the frigid, inescapable winter or just the freezing feeling of being unloved which you're leaving behind. No matter what, it is in the past. Now you are blooming with being fucking alright. And yeah, that "fucking" is necessary because you've been alright and now you're fucking alright, you're good, you're fine, you're content, and it isn't a lie anymore.

That's what it feels like to see Bucky's face.

The first time Steve saw Bucky he felt more pain than all those times he got shot. That was his best guy under that mask and-- well, that was the past. Today was today. Not yesterday. And Steve would be perfectly happy without tomorrow. Today Steve was with Bucky in Wakanda. Today Bucky had woken him up with kisses and a little goat bleating in his arms. Bucky already dressed for the day, his arm, or what was left, wrapped in a soft blue cloth. He wore his favourite red dress--

"It's not a dress, Steve!" Bucky placed the goat onto the ground. "I can hear you thinking."

"It's a pretty dress. I think everyone should have a nice red dress, Buck." Steve sat up, pushing the covers off of his not-quite-tan-but-not-as-pale-as-yesterday skin.

"It is not a dress. It is traditional Wakandan garb! Shuri gave it to me. She told me it was a nice casual outfit that would bring out my eyes." Bucky now attempted to cross his arms. The exasperated tone got his point across, but the habit of crossing two arms was just that, a habit. Steve laughed at Bucky and murmured something about how adorable his best guy is. Steve found himself occupied with kissing Bucky gently when the puny goat attacked. 

Perhaps attack is the wrong word.

Washcloth ("Yes, that is her name!-- What do you mean its stupid? Washie, don't listen to the mean man.") leaped onto the bed next to Steve and nipped at his exposed belly. She was used to doing that to Bucky's clothing to grab his attention when Buck didn't want to get out of bed. Unfortunately Steve wasn't exactly clothed after the previous night of... reacquainting himself with his boyfriend. Washcloth didn't seem to care that he wasn't dressed, but what she did care about is that this stranger was in  _her_ Bucky's bed taking the attention of  _her_ Bucky when _she_  was supposed to be getting pets and a special treat in the form of carrots.

"Don't tell me you're jealous of our goat," Bucky teasingly chided.

"I am not jealous. She is the jealous one here. Starting a fight with a much bigger fella.  _Nipping_ _me, Buck!_  She is obviously jealous that I saw your a--" Bucky covered Washcloth's ears and began to chant.

"Lalalalalalalalala, I can't hear you! Lalalalalalalalala! Not in front of our kid!"

"You are a dork," Steve grumbled.

"You're a jerk." Steve got that happy feeling at Bucky's smug smile.

"You're an asshole," He countered.

"You're a punk."

"I am not the punk in this relationship!" Steve huffed.

"Yes! You're a scummy little trickster."

"I'm not a passive homosexual male." Steve knew he was in dip shit for defining punk, and by extension Bucky, like that.

"I may be gay and a bottom, but--"

"You're not male?" Steve received a slap for that. 

"I'm not passive!"

"Really? So you don't lay on your back and take what you're given?"

"I'm a power bottom."

"You've called me--" Bucky's hands returned to Washcloth's ears and sang at the top of his lungs.

"I'm powerful! Power, power, power, power! Power bottom!"

"Right, baby." Steve kissed Bucky's cheek and softly petted his hair. Who cares if he was more like boiled spaghetti that moaned like a pornstar than a  dominating, manly man. Steve definitely didn't, well maybe he does, but not right now. Not when Bucky is smiling and singing and giggling because he's having a good morning. Who knew that Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes of the 107th, the Winter Soldier himself, could giggle while his boyfriend peppered kisses over his face and a tiny kid bleated for attention? Steve, that's who. Because the only person that knew Captain America wrestled and kissed and loved aforementioned sergeant was Bucky. In those moments, though, they were Steve an Bucky, two fucked up kids from Brooklyn that were never ashamed of being queer no matter how much they tried. Bucky and Steve, those motherfuckers who spoke in a language made up of looks and laughs and a few miscellaneous words. Stevie and Buck, the trouble makers who went on double dates with the neighbourhood lesbians so no one found out about four dirty secrets. Buck and Stevie, those eggs who dance like they've lost their drumsticks and drank enough hooch to bankrupt Rockefeller, Vanderbilt, Carnegie, and Morgan all put together. Two boys in love, a couple of dopes who can't help but to gaze at each other like couples in films do, all sugary and sappy.

"You ain't half bad looking, you know?" Steve rested on his side. "Might even get a dame if you shave that mug."

"Don't want a dame." Bucky mirrored Steve's position. "I've got my eyes on a pretty swell guy." Steve continued to taunt his fella while playing with his hands.

Around 10 Shuri stopped by to see Bucky and greet Steve.

"Is that the dress I gave you, Sergeant?" Shuri smiled while poking at his arm. Bucky spluttered for a solid minute while Steve rolled on the floor laughing.

"Dress?!" He gasped.

"Yes, that is what it is called. I thought you knew that men wear dresses here just as women and others do. White men are so stupid for not wearing them. They are so comfortable, do you not agree?" Shuri paused, a hand on her hip.

"I agree. I wasn't aware of the terminology. In the 30's only fairies wore 'em. Most were just into tipping the ivy, but some got done up all like dames." Bucky smoothed his dress down. "Ain't nothing wrong with a guy in a dress whether he frenches other men or not."

"You shouldn't be using those words 'round a doll." Steve leaned on Bucky's right side.

"I am not a doll, I'm a woman." Shuri tsked. "We do not call people fairies anymore. It is offensive. Is tipping ivy something along the lines of liking men?"

"Something like that." Bucky snorted, relaxing at his boyfriend's touch.

"How are you two?" The princess played around with the temporary bond between Bucky's skin and the prototype arm.

"Steve is jealous of Washcloth," Bucky reported.

Bucky and Shari chatted on and on about nothing and everything. Steve stopped paying attention to anything that wasn't Bucky's features stretching to smile, his teeth showing when he laughed, his eyes shining, his gently curving nose, his dark eyelashes, his soft hair, or the feeling of his voice humming. Steve never believed in a higher power back before the ice. The big man upstairs he heard about in church was supposed to be filled with love, he was merciful. He was also a fairytale. Steve knew all too well what starvation felt like. He knew what death looked like. He know what fighting sounded like. He knew what fresh blood smelled like. He knew what pure stomach acid tasted like. No good god would allow that. Steve also knew what love felt like. He knew what beauty looked like. He knew what angels singing sounded like. He knew what fresh bread smelled like. He knew what his lover tasted like. No bad god would allow that. In that case, there must be no god at all. That didn't mean Steve never had doubts about his conclusion. Bucky made him question everything. Every kiss, touch, orgasm, tear, laugh, smile, tease, slap, hug, _everything_  felt like it had to be the plans of something divine. How could anyone create something so glorious without being heavenly the self? So days filled with lots of laughing and smiling and kissing and any of those other things made him wonder. Days like this he almost believed in God.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> heehee new york time

“Cap,” Tony sighed. “ _ Please _ ?”

“No,” Steve grumbled into the phone. 

“Pretty please?”

“No.”

“Pretty please with a new shield on top?”

“No, Tony,” the blond stated firmly. 

“Pretty please with a new suit, shield, arm for your boy, and a gift basket on top?”

“It’s not because I want more, Tony. We have plenty of tech and material objects.”

“Fine. You don’t want material objects. What will get you over to my tower?” Tony leaned onto his desk, as if Steve were right across from him and not in Africa. 

“Bucky and I have a great life here—“

“I’m not asking you to move in. Everyone misses you and…”

“You miss us? Really?” Steve couldn’t believe Tony, not completely. 

“No!— well  _ yes _ . But that’s not why I want you to come here so badly. You know how Pepper and I decided to be platonic partners while I explored this whole being in love with a man thing?”

“Yeah, you got married to that wizard. I remember. After the wedding you called Bucky, drunk off your ass, and tried to get him to kidnap Shuri and take her to New York.” Steve ran a hand down the back of Washcloth.

“We kind of have a son.”

“ _ What _ ?” Captain America, a 240+ pound soldier, squeaked like a mouse on helium. 

“I took him in as a protégé and we got really close. His parents are gone, Aunt raised him. Legally we aren’t his fathers, but he stays here on weekends and with May— the aunt— during the week. He calls me Iron Dad and Stephen is Doctor Dad. He’s 15.”

“He’s normal? Like a genius, but not powered?” Steve inquired. 

“No, Peter got bit by a radioactive spider. He is like you, now. Faster, stronger, fit, healthier.”

“A spider?— Tony, he’s not that kid from Queens, right?” Silence. “Right?”

“He’s the airport boy you tried to crush,” Stark admitted. 

“Yet you want me and the guy we were fighting about to go see him?” Steve was incredulous. 

“We settled everything. Shit hit the fan, so we got to cleaning. You know I don’t blame Barnes. Or you. I blamed myself and lashed out. Peter isn’t a politics guy. He helped because I asked.”

“Tony, you’re not the only one to blame for the fight. To even be a fight we both had to throw punches.”

“Whatever. Just. Please come to the tower. Peter would be so excited and we really do miss you.”

“I’ll talk with Bucky, okay? I’d enjoy seeing you all and your new kid, but Buck comes first and he might need time.”

“All I ask is that you consider the offer.” Tony clicked his pen, wrote STEVE AND BOY TOY COMING on his weekly planner, and hung up the phone.

“Goodbye, I guess,” Steve muttered to the dead line. He let out a deep breath, muscles relaxing. With a toss of the mobile onto the bed, Steve stood to go find Bucky. Luckily his boyfriend was only out talking to the village children. 

“Steve, come!” Bucky waved him over. 

“Hello, guys. Buck.” He gently kissed Bucky, making the girls giggle. 

“Hi, Stevie. The girls were showing me their drawings and I think you’d like them.” Bucky pointed to a panel of images etched into the dusty earth. 

“They’re beautiful!” Steve pointed to a scribble made by the youngest child. “Did Furaha draw this?” 

“Furaha did, yes,” An older girl who spoke both the native language and English nodded. “I made this one.” She poked a drawing of someone with long hair. “It is White Wolf.”

“How lovely, Mbali. Bucky, isn’t it so pretty. Makes your ugly mug look good.” Steve ran a finger across Bucky’s cheek. 

“It makes you look even worse than usual. My beautiful portrait verse your ghastly face.” Bucky teased, pinching Steve’s ear. Steve laughed and kissed Bucky gently. 

“Never thought someone could make my beautiful guy even better looking.” The blond gave Mbali a high five and hugged Tuma, a little boy who spent much of his time with the girls, goodbye. Mbali and her younger sister, Ebele, insisted Tuma had a crush on Steve. 

“I heard you shout Tony’s name.” Bucky looked smug. “Should I be worried?” He teased. 

“Tony and Stephen invited us to New York. They want to have everyone together to catch up.” Steve took Bucky’s hand in his. 

“Well? Do you want to go?” Bucky looked up, expectantly. 

“He also wants us to meet their son.” 

“Tony has a kid? Is that even legal?” Bucky put a hand on his hip. 

“Apparently so. I’m sure Stephen keeps him in check. Anyway, I want to meet the kid.” Steve gave Bucky’s hand a squeeze. “What about you?”

“I’d love to. Seeing the Tower would be nice, too. All the StarkTech…” Bucky smiled into the distance. 

“I’ll text Tony. He can probably get us tickets for next week.” 

———

Tony laughed at Steve’s question about how many weeks it would be before the flight. He had, apparently, sent a plane before even consulting Steve that morning. Tony always anticipated success. Unless he didn’t. But in this case he did.

 

Now, Bucky was snoring on Steve’s shoulder after taking sleep medication from Shuri. Steve was between wake and sleep. He was in a trance thinking about Bucky and what would happen if they adopted a kid.  Or even got married. It’s legal now, obviously. Would they have a small ceremony with the Avengers and friends, or a huge event with military personnel, politicians, journalists, anyone who’d want to be there? Or would they elope and not have anyone but the officiant and a necessary witness or two there? Would they even do a legal wedding? Maybe they’d just wear rings and call themselves husbands. Steve and Bucky have been together for 85 years, it’s not like they have anything to prove. 

“Captain Rogers,” a flight attendants began. 

“Hello.”

“We have food if you are hungry. Mister Stark has prepared for a full meal if either of you wish,” explained Miss… Marie, as her name tag read. 

“I’m alright on food, but I was wondering if you have a blanket for my boyfriend? He hates being cold.” Steve ran a hand through Bucky’s hair. 

“Of course.” Marie opened an overhead bin, pulling out an Avengers blanket and handing it to the captain. 

“Thank you. Let Tony know we’d like our floor to be warm when we get there. We’re used to Wakandan weather now.” Steve yawned, then apologized. 

“I’ll leave you to rest and inform Mister Stark. Any other requests?”

“No, Marie. Thank you.”

———

Steve was carrying Bucky close to his chest. Their luggage was on a fancy golf cart type of machine with a driver sitting at the wheel and Tony leaning against the back. 

“Capsicle, how’s our favourite Terminator doing?” Tony flicked Bucky’s metal arm. Steve shifted his boyfriend away from Tony. 

“He can feel that,” Steve grumbled. Tony looked impressed with that factoid. He touched the hand again, but jerked back when Steve slapped his hand away. “Go.” Cap nodded his head to the StarkCart. 

“Sure thing, Gramps.” Tony hopped into the passenger seat. Steve sat with Bucky across his lap on the bench seat, gently stroking his hair. “So…?”

“So what?” Steve asked. 

“Good to have your buddy C-3PO safe?” 

“Of course. He’s been safe. Wakanda is the best place for him.” 

“My tower is just as safe,” Tony insisted. 

“One tower can be blown up easily. An entire nation is a bit harder to completely demolish. They also have an army, us, and T’Challa. Your tower has Happy and us. They also have tech even more advanced than yours.” Steve noticed Bucky stirring. “We are disturbing him.”

“Hey! Wall-E, you up?” Tony yelled, leaning over his seat. Steve pushed for him to sit, but Bucky already awoke. 

“Stevie, are we home?” Bucky asked. “Is momma back from work?” 

“Baby, we are in New York— Manhattan. With Tony Stark. We are going to visit his son, remember?” Steve gently pet his hair. 

“Oh, right. 2019.” Bucky sat up, composing himself quickly. “Nice to see you, Stark.”

“And you, Megatron.”

“Sorry, my name is actually—“

“Bucky,” Tony finished. “Megatron is a robot from—“ Bucky tried to hide his arm under his dress. Tony looked ashamed for the briefest of moments. “Uh… We are almost at the tower. You can take floor 69.”

“Tony,” Steve warned. 

“What’s wrong? I had Pepper pick out couches and blankets and pillows and boring shit for you. The least you can do to thank me is use it.”

“Thank you, Tony. We will.” Steve nodded. Bucky tilted his head in time with Steve’s. 

“Hopefully there will be a lot of 69ing on the handpicked, luxury bed—

“There we go. Tony Stark for you, Buck.” Steve flicked Tony’s ear. Bucky laughed and shrugged. 

“Definitely don’t have to worry about that, Stark.” He stretched his arms, the plates on his left whirling. 

When the three of them finally arrived at floor 69 of Tony’s tower, Nat was there to greet them. 

“Steve, good to see you. James, nice to see you washed your hair.” She walked up to Bucky to touch his hair.

“Bucky, actually. Do you go by Natasha or…?”

“Nat, Natasha, Natalia, Romanoff. Anything works,” She gave a quick smile. 

“Nat, you’re blonde!” Steve gaped. She nodded, smirking slightly. 

“Hey, Tony. You’re looking good, Tony. Thanks for the tower, Tony.” Tony stepped between Natasha and Steve. “Why does no one ever appreciate me?”

“Go find your husband, Stark.” Natasha waved a hand towards the elevator. Tony threw up a hand sign and departed.

“Did that mean I love you or rock and roll? I always forget the difference,” Steve asked the newly blonde lass. 

“That’s the sign of the horns.”

Steve and Natasha opted to continue their conversation on trivial crap, but Bucky decided exploring the flat would make better use of his time. 

Everything was sleek, white, and futuristic looking. It was obviously a copy-paste set of rooms and not personalised to Steve and himself. It was definitely the aesthetic Tony and Pepper seemed to like, at least. There were a couple vintage posters, a record player, and a framed newspaper article about a baseball game. The kitchen’s matte black cupboards, counters, and countertops were an extreme contrast to the sterile white living room. Down one hall there were two identical bedrooms with dark blue walls, floor to ceiling windows, and a grey bed. Both had a white dresser and chair, a blue ottoman, and a blue-grey throw blanket. There was a bathroom connecting the bedrooms. It was white with dark accents. Two blue towels hung next to a dark brown cabinet with soaps and lotions on top as well as an empty toothbrush holder. There was a single sink and toilet. The shower was separated by a pane of glass on one side, but had no door. 

Down the second, shorter hallway a set of over the top double doors stood ajar. Bucky could tell it was the master bedroom. The bedroom was larger than the flat his entire family shared in Brooklyn. There was a bed so huge that Bucky didn’t even know what it would be called. It was too big to be a single or even a double, so did that mean triple beds existed in the future? Beds for three people or maybe two people and a pet? Bucky wasn’t sure, but whatever the giant bed was, it looked comfortable. There was a large telly in the room, a full body mirror, a walk in closet, a dresser, a sitting area that technically wasn’t a room (but basically was), a wall of windows overlooking the city, and a door to the en suite. The room felt more personal than the others, but still rather bland. It had warm purple blankets and a few photos set out. On one bedside table was a drawing of Steve and Bucky together. There was also a stack of used notebooks. On a another table in the room sat some art supplies that seemed to live there. It looked like it had been abandoned quickly with all of the materials laid out. It must still have been getting cleaned because of the lack of dust. 

Two squeezing arms shocked Bucky out of thought. 

“Hi, dollface,” Steve kissed Bucky’s nape.

“Hey, Stevie. ‘S nice.” Bucky gestured to the room. 

“It’s a giant hotel. Never was home. Nothing ever could have been without you.” Steve sounded sappy, but both of them knew he wasn’t being sentimental. Life had been so empty for both of them. 

“When did you live here?” Bucky looked at the signs of daily use. Matted carpet where Steve stood in front of the dresser each day, a watermark on the bedside table from a cup, a doorknob with scuff marks from being turned multiple times a day. This had been where he lived. 

“When I first got out they put me here. I got an apartment after a few months. Got mobbed by fans. Moved back here. When we first… made contact with you, or rather HYDRA with Fury, I just moved into a new place. The day Nick got shot I moved back here. Knowing you had been in my apartment was…” Steve shook his head. “Anyway, I guess between 2011 and 2014. About three years.”

“Is Wakanda home? Do you think our hut is home, or is it like this place?” Bucky worried. 

“It’s not that simple. Wakanda is the place that accepted you. They allowed the most precious thing, my best guy, to make a life there. Seeing him so comfortable and happy. Seeing him trust others enough to cry and to lay in the sun and play with the children… that’s what is home. The place is secondary.” Steve kissed Bucky’s neck while he talked, petting his hair gently. Bucky flushes. 

“Now I feel stupid because I was going to say this place has a hospital feel, but we’ve had way too much sex in our place there to feel sterile.” Bucky murmured. Steve laughed and pinched his boyfriend’s hip through his trousers.

“You’re not stupid. That is a very fair statement.” Cap ran a hand through his own hair. “Jarvis will bring us to meet the kid whenever we are ready. They all expect our arrival, but are not waiting for us. We don’t have to go unless we are comfortable.”

“I’m comfortable. I feel… excited about life. I want you to know that. I’m happy to be here with you. I’m glad I’ll meet your 21st century family. I’m all around content.” Bucky gave Steve a genuine smile. “I feel whole,” he added. 

“You couldn’t ever understand how happy I am that you’re here, next to me, grinning like a kid.”

“I don’t remember the year, but I remember we were at school just being jerks and you smiled and… my heart nearly malfunctioned. I ain’t sure I ever felt it before. I knew I’d fell in love at that moment.”

“We were probably still kids.” Steve sounded amazed. “By high school I missed more classes than I went to,” he explained. “I think from the day we became friends I was lost on you. Ma used to say how she was gonna learn how to bake just for when we got hitched. It was a joke, but I think she would’ve. If it were legal, that is.” 

“You definitely got your sappiness from Sarah.” Bucky ran a hand down Steve’s arm, finishing with holding his hand. 

“You say that like George didn’t make you just as sweet, and Winnie just as brilliant.” Steve laughed at the equally fond and bitter memories of another life with another family. Bucky probably didn’t remember much of his own parents. Steve couldn’t imagine not knowing his own mum.  

“I hope one day I can do good by a kid like they did.” Bucky laced his pinky with Steve’s. 

“Tony’s kid will love you. I’m sure about that.” Steve kissed his boyfriend’s forehead. 

“I think I'm ready to meet him. I want to see if I could really end up liking one.”

“You loved you sisters.” Steve guided them to the elevator. “They were your biggest fans and you were theirs. Becca, Steph, and Rachel. You and Bec were basically twins. Rachel was like your baby, she was born when we were pretty old.” Bucky nodded, telling Steve he remembered the baby. “Steph looked to you as a mentor, but also a friend. I’m sure Peter will see his Uncle Bucky is an amazing guy if you treat him the way you would any of your sisters.” The elevator pinged a moment later. Steve stepped out before Bucky so he would be between his best guy and any potential threat. 

“They’re here!” A short, slim boy called out, barrelling towards Steve and Bucky. Steve prepared himself for a fight, but was instead met with the child bouncing on his feet and shaking Steve’s hand more than enthusiastically. “Hi, Mister Captain America, sir! My name is Peter-Man— I mean Spider Parker. I’m Spider-man, but you can call me Peter. Which is my first name. My last name is Parker.” The child had rosier cheeks than Steve had ever seen and a general softness to him. 

“Er. Hi. I’m Steve.” He gave Peter an awkward shoulder pat with the hand that was not  _ still _ being shaken. Peter turned to Bucky. 

“You’re Mister Sergeant White Wolf, Sir! I love you— not in a creepy way. More of a ‘one of my friends made your arm and she tells me about you doing better and I liked your hair’ way. I’m still Peter, by the way. Dad said you like science, is that true?” Bucky was taken aback by Peter. He was White Wolf, not the Winter Soldier. This kid knew about him from a mutual friend, not legends of a ghost assassin. It was like breathing fresh air to be a good guy for once.

“I did. I mean I do. Back when we were kids we went to the World Fair and got to see all of Howard’s new technology! When we were in uhm… I’m not sure what country, maybe England? Anyway, he had a great video camera that recorded video and audio, and was full colour! Now everyone has a camera in their pocket, but that was the first we saw.  First ever to exist, maybe.” Bucky stopped abruptly. “Sorry, that was too much sharing.”

“No!” Peter took Bucky’s left hand in two of his. “I want to know all about the 40’s if you want to share. Dad says you’re really good at picking up skills and adapting, maybe I could show you some new tech to work with?”

“Of course.” Steve smiled. He kissed Bucky’s cheek and held a thumb up. “Buck is great with phones and computers and all of that stuff. Much better than me.”

“Do you want any help, Mister Steve?” Peter took out his phone as a sign of an offer. “There is a lot to take in, but—“

“Don’t worry, we’ve got time,” Steve told the kid. Peter nodded

“Peter?” A deep voice called. 

“That’s Doctor Dad.” Peter pulled the couple into a spacious kitchen. Stephen, Pepper, and Tony were sitting around an island. “Hello everyone.”

“Peter, what do you want to eat? You have to make sure you eat up, you’re a growing boy,” Pepper reminded Peter. 

“Don’t embarrass me in front of Mister Steve and Mister White Wolf. I’m not a baby, okay?”

“I know, Pete. That doesn’t mean we don’t worry.” Tony ruffled his son’s hair. “Now, let's properly greet our guests! Good to see you make it out of bed, Stevo! Did you convince him to come see my kid instead of making your own mini me’s, Starbucks?”

“Bucky was actually getting a tour. He hasn’t seen all the StarkTech that comes with being in the tower, but he saw the general ultra-modern design.” 

“The apartment is… huge. Our place in Brooklyn wasn’t even the size of our bedroom now. I’m not sure that we would even fit side by side in that place nowadays.” Bucky shook his head. “We slept on two single mattresses pushed together and ate mostly boiled cabbage. Times have really changed.”

“The mattresses weren’t even ours. Buck stole both from… well I was never told where. I guess probably the trash because of how much stuffing was missing outta them.”

“I can assure you we did not steal your mattress from the garbage. It is specially made just for you, actually. It’s 76 inches by 84 inches for your super soldier selves,” Tony informed them. 

“I don’t know what the importance of that is, but thank you. In Wakanda we have a regular double bed, so anything is fine.” Bucky shrugged. 

“I have a double bed and I’m only one person. Iron Dad just wants everyone to be as comfortable as possible.”

“After all the winters we went through, we’ve learned to sleep on top of one another. We even shared a single bed during the war because it got so cold. We’re comfortable everywhere.”

“It wasn’t just because we were cold, Steve.” Bucky bumped his boyfriend’s side.

“And I guess because we were in love too,” Steve added. 

“Hey, pal, you know you couldn’t go a day without me.”

“I know, doll. Doesn’t mean I can’t joke.”

“Okay because you  _ better _ not go thinking you don’t need me after us being together since we were six!” Bucky pinched Steve’s arm. 

“I know I need you by my side, sugar. Wouldn’t be able to think straight if you weren’t here to set me right.”

“You can’t think straight when he’s around!” Tony poked Steve. “Your brain shuts off and all you can think about is being gay with him.”

“Right. Well… I don’t think properly when you’re gone, but I don’t ever think straight.” Steve corrected himself. 

“You better not think straight. Not after all those evenings in alleyways. You’ve always been ginchy.”

“Hey, hey.” Steve gave Bucky a side hug. “Not in front of the kid, honey.”

“I literally do not know what you are saying.” Peter blinked up at Steve and Bucky. “You might be talking about fighting, drinking, stealing, or… other things.”

“See, hotshot? Ain’t got nothing to worry about.” Bucky kissed Steve’s cheek.

“With you as my fever for 80 some odd years? Definitely don’t gotta worry.”

“I ain’t your girlfriend, buddy.” Bucky leaned into Steve’s touch. 

“Is there a happy announcement coming up, then?” Stephen asked.

“If Steve gets off his ass, maybe. He tells me I’m his one love and I’m minxy as ever, but doesn’t ever ask the big question.” Bucky sighed dramatically. “We used to say we’d get married as soon as possible. Stupid laws wouldn’t stop us. Never panned out.”

“If I propose—“

“If?” Bucky put a hand on his hip.

“When I propose, you all will know. Except Bucky.  For all you know, Buck, I’ve got a diamond ring in my pocket for you.”

“Do I have to slap that smug look off that face?” Bucky teased. 

“When I proposed Tony slapped me,” Stephen told the group. 

“Dad! You can’t slap your husband, that’s illegal.” Peter chided. 

“He wasn’t my husband at the time. And the proposal surprised me. I didn’t slap him to hurt him. He kept a secret from me and that’s how I reacted.” Tony pointed at Stephen accusingly. 

“Do you want to be surprised, honey? I’ll woo you like you're the finest dame around if you want,” Steve offered. 

“Please do. I want to see what you come up with,” Bucky challenged.

“Good.” Steve tab a hand through Bucky’s hair. “I’ll make you so pleased you won’t even mind being a domestic housewife, going to the grocery store and greasing loaf pans.” 

“The only thing getting greased will be—“ Bucky paused, his ears turning ever so delightfully pink. “Your hair and your motorbike.”

“People use fancy cream now for hair, not grease.”

“Alright, pal. Still gotta do your hair and oil up the bike.” Bucky pat Steve’s hair.

“Do you like Wakanda?” Peter sat down with a sandwich. 

“I love it.” Bucky continued to talk. The light sky of a sunny afternoon quickly became a deep shade of navy. Stars twinkled merrily, shedding light on New York City. The once lively group of six dwindled down. First Stephen was off to do whatever sorcerers do, then Pepper returned to work. Around 9 Tony sent Peter off to bed, Bucky went to clean up at only half past. That left a sleepy, but content Steve with Tony (who never really seemed to sleep). 

“You don’t have to stay up for my sake.”

“I ain— I’m not. I actually want to talk to you.” 

“You don’t have to lie either.”

“Tony. I am not lying. We are friends; I want to talk to you.” Steve leaned closer to where Tony sat on the L shaped couch. He placed a hand on Tony’s arm. “I really do. No fibs.”

“Fine, I believe you.” Tony waved Steve off him quickly. Steve relaxed as much as he could into the firm cushions. “Obviously there is something you want to say.”

“I’m in love with Bucky,” Steve blurted. The look on his face made it seem like he wasn’t kissing the other bloke in front of Tony just moments earlier. He seemed ashamed— no, not ashamed. 

“I’m not blind or stupid. I’m a genius actual. And a playboy. I know when those eyes mean love and not lust. Why do you have that look on your face? You look like you’ve got to shit so bad you’ll cry, but you’re embarrassed to stand because you’ve already ruined your trousers.”

“That is… not what I should be focusing on. And no, I’m fine. Buck’s fine. We’re dying or relapsing or something. I just. I don’t just love him, I’m in love. I don’t just want to kiss him, I want to kiss him in public. I want to marry him. I know it’s legal now.”

“But?” Tony asked. His tone wasn’t a question as much as it was a judgemental challenge to how much Steve really cared for Bucky. 

“What if he says no? He’s my life. We’ve been together for so long I don’t even know what life was like before. I’ve lost him multiple times. I’ve lost people, Tony, but those moments… They weren’t like losing someone. It felt like I died. I felt colder in the moment I lost Bucky than I did when I went in the ice. I could have jumped, but I didn’t because a piece of me thought there might be a heaven to meet him in. Or even a Hell. And I would have done anything to see him.”

“I don’t know that that’s healthy—“

“I’m not a child with a crush. I’m an adult man with not just a friend or boyfriend or companion, but a soulmate. I don’t believe in idealistic bullshit, but if anything is true in my life, it’s the fact that Bucky and I are meant to be. If he said no—“

“He wouldn’t, Steve. He  _ couldn’t. _ ” 

“But if he did—“

“ _ Couldn’t _ .”

“I’d be over. I’ve fought apocalypses like they’re nothing. You wanna know how it’s so easy? Because they were nothing. Losing Bucky would be worse to me than the actual fucking apocalypse. That’s how fucked up I am. That’s how fucked up  _ on _ him I am.”

“So you’re never going to propose?” Tony’s face was red and his fists were clenched. His jaw was tightening and his back looked rigid. “You’re going to give in to selfish fear and be a coward?”

“No, Tony. I’m telling you this because I want your help.”

“You want  _ me _ to propose for you?” Tony’s anger snapped to confusion. He studied Steve like a child studies their favourite tv show. 

“No! Why would I— No. I want you to help me plan the proposal. Why would… What? Just… Help me pick a ring and where to do it, I guess. I’ve never proposed before, but at least you've been proposed to.”

“Ask Stephen for help.”

“No, I’m asking you.”

“Ask Pepper, she’s great at planning and is smarter. More common sense.”

“No. Look, Tony, I’m asking you because you’re my friend. I value your opinion. I want you to be part of this. I plan on asking Sam and Nat too, so don’t get too excited. I was Captain America for so long. Even now I go outside and I’m the Star Spangled Man with a Plan. I’m Iron Man’s pal. Black Widow’s tactless buddy. Falcon’s favourite weight to drop onto people. I want to do this as Steve Rogers. This is me as me with my friends. Not Cap and the Avengers.”

“You’re a sappy little fuck, you know that?” 

“Yeah, I do.”

Steve was happy to be the next to retire off to bed. He was more than happy to hold the love of his life close and murmur a lullaby. It was all so very normal, yet Steve couldn't think of anything he wanted more. He could spend forever just wrapped in bed with Bucky. It felt like watching the most beautiful sunset. One accompanied by  a gentle breeze and a glass of honey coloured alcohol to warm his insides.

Too bad that happiness doesn't ever last.

Too bad that the sun sets.


	4. It’s Okay To Need Time

Today was a bad day. 

It started with waking up at 3 am screaming, begging for death after a nightmare about the Chair. 

Steve cradled Bucky in his arms and talked to him. He whispered about things only they could know about: happy memories, inside jokes, special moments, simple markers in their relationship. Steve told Bucky about meeting each other, their first hug, first kiss, first time, the day Bucky was drafted, getting the serum, saving Bucky, Christmas dinners at the Roger’s, Hanukkah with the Barnes household, and moments like brushing their teeth together as kids, moving into their flat, cooking together, dancing to records, being young and naive. 

Bucky didn’t smile. He didn’t laugh at his favourite memories. He didn’t even give Steve his “I’m okay” kiss. 

He did fall asleep around 6 am. Bucky wouldn’t sleep long, but it was something. He’d likely be far more lucid too. 

Steve made himself breakfast, ran, had second breakfast, and showered before his mobile finally began to buzz. 

**Bruce:** Good morning, Steve. Thor and I are bringing drinks to a team dinner, what do you guys like?

**Steve:** we usually just drink water, but asgardian alcohol is also good

**Bruce:** Thanks, Steve!

 

**Tony:** good morning america! i’ve got a press conference this morning and was hoping you’d join me

**Steve:** no way

**Tony** : that’s too bad bb! we already agreed that you would talk about how life is going as a fake lumberjack

**Steve** : hey, eat shit! compliments of the chief  :)

**Tony** : how did you know that’s my faveo

**Steve** : just a guess

 

**Nat:** Bucky’s #

**Steve** : you don’t have it?

**Nat** : now

**Nat** : please

Steve shared  **Bucky <3** with  **Nat**

**Nat** loved a message

**Nat:** delete the heart

**Steve** : you’re welcome

 

**Sam:** hey man u up for coffee

**Steve** : have to talk to press :( can we take a rain check 

**Sam** : ok do u want me to come

**Steve:** no it’s fine

**Sam:** if you say so brother 

**Sam** : how is your boy doing? can i get his digits 

**Steve** : he’s having a rough day :( i’ll ask him first 

**Sam** : natasha got them

**Steve** : bucky consented to that yesterday, but he needs space from us today

 

So normal. The world continued on. Yet how could Steve think of anyone but Bucky when he was in such pain?

———

Steve was not having a good time. He blocked six questions and answered the same question twice already. He was only ten questions in. 

“Have you began to settle down?” The dreaded question came. 

“I’m er… I’ve decided to take time to find myself. Find new life and meaning. If that’s settling down, then yes,” Steve replied mostly truthfully. 

“I meant to ask, sir, if you’re looking for a wife or perhaps have found someone already.” The journalist specified.

“Oh.” Steve thought about his best guy laying in bed with ice bags enveloping his head, trying to get the pain to subside. “I am currently in a place I am content with.” Steve dodged a proper response. He was becoming rather sweaty, something that only happens under extremely taxing conditions and when he gets nervous. Seeing as Steve was standing still, it's definitely not the first option. Hopefully no one touched his sticky hands or made him lift his arms any time soon. 

“Are you alone in that contentment?” The woman pushed. Steve felt a bead of perspiration run down the back of his neck. 

“I have my friends— fellow Avengers.” He smiled awkwardly. Pepper was gesturing wildly, trying to communicate either an answer or for Steve to flail his arms like a child throwing a tantrum. 

“A lover, Captain.” Steve was silent for a moment. 

_ Fuck press conferences. Fuck opinions. Fucking fuck it.  _

“I do have someone in my life. Why that matters, I’m not sure. Any other questions about the status of the Avengers or what my role in law enforcement will be?” Steve looked around at numerous hands. He pointed to a respectful reporter. 

“What will you role in the, for lack of better phrasing, New Avengers be?”

“I’m always around in case of emergencies, but as I mentioned, I've taken a step back. I will only be on call when I am truly needed. I have put my full faith in these wonderful young people. Spider-Man, a local Avenger, is just brilliant. Not only do I believe he is mentally capable, but he has the physical abilities too. He is better than I am.” A few photos were snapped, more hands went up. “You.”

“Is your relationship long term?” Steve sighed. He knew this would happen. If only he just ignored these questions. 

“Yes.”

“The first since Agent Carter?”

“Peggy and I were close friends. We both were interested in other people. I do love her, but it’s always been platonic.”

“Then the first ever?”

“It depends on how you look at things.” Steve shook his head.  _ Stupid reply _ . “I believe since we’ve cleared up my future as one of the Avengers I can call this to a close.” Steve quickly thanked the reporters, so he could scurry backstage. 

Pepper was running towards Steve. She seemed to be a strange mix of calm and frantic. She nearly fell over when attempting to stop in front of him. 

“I didn’t approve that beforehand!” She hollered. “Never did I say it’d be okay to mention your  _ lover _ !”

“I confirmed having a partner—“

“And said it was long term! And that you weren’t with Carter! And now people are going to think you’re in a relationship with everyone they see you with!”

“They already do that, Miss Potts.”

“Oh, do  **not** ‘Miss Potts’ me! The PR team is probably already quitting. I don’t know what to say.”

“I’m sorry, Pepper. I didn’t think it would be a big deal. I didn’t mention gender or how long ‘long term’ is. I thought I was being safe.”

“You’re just like Tony.” Steve spluttered and had to catch himself from falling. 

“You mean how he talked about snorting meth up his ass and fucking different women every night before you started fixing him up?” Steve sneered. 

“You can’t snort meth up your butt— that’s not my point. It doesn’t matter what the topic at hand is, whether it be drugs or relationships, you both just do whatever you want.”

“No. I don’t. I spent years not doing what I wanted. I spent years fearing I’d die because of what I wanted. That is, if the flu didn’t get to me first. I’m used to hiding everything about me because of this stupid fucking shield. I wanted to be one of thousands of men to serve this country, not propaganda or an icon or a celebrity. I’m fucked up because I’m just a fucking guy. I’m just Steve. And Steve is tired of hiding inside of Captain America. I’m fucking done with lying. They ask who I fuck? I won’t say, but they ask if I fuck? I ain’t lying. I don’t have a reason to. I don’t care about this goddamn reputation because I never fucking wanted it.” Steve didn’t touch Pepper or even raise his voice, but he did look a bit manic as his skin turned red and his voice became a growl. Pepper looked shocked. 

“I’m sorry. I’m stressed because of Tony. That doesn’t mean I’m not angry at you. Just means I’m… quick to fly off the handle.” Pepper touched Steve’s shoulder. 

“I wish I was sorry. I wish I was a polite shiteater in perfectly pressed pants just like Cap. Ain’t your fault that everything’s bullshit. Shouldn’t tell you off like that. I mean you don’t even have to be here; you’re trying to be a good friend. I’m acting like my momma didn’t teach me manners.” Pepper silently nodded. She understood. Of course, she would understand almost anything after being around Tony for so long. 

“Bucky is having a real rough day. I know he needs alone time, but I feel useless. And scared,” he admitted. Again, Pepper nodded. 

“Bring him something to eat, leave it where he will find it, crash in the communal space.” It was Steve’s turn to nod. Oddly enough he felt grateful for Tony’s… Tony-ness in that moment. At least he made Pepper a good advice giver.  Then again a sulking traumatised ex-assassin is a bit different than a fancy mechanical genius who forgets to leave his lab (but they’re both stabilised by food, so Steve doesn’t care about technicalities).

Steve followed the directions Pepper gave as quickly and quietly as possible. He set out water, a fork, and a nice big bowl of pasta for Bucky. He left just as noiselessly as he’d came in, Bucky would eat, life would be good. 

Unfortunately Bucky was sitting atop the refrigerator watching everything. When Steve went to fill his water bottle with ice, he noticed the pink of Bucky’s socks. Steve looked up slowly to cautiously meet his boyfriend’s eyes. 

“Just bringing food.”

“I’m lonely. Ice packs melted. Haveta wait til they freeze.”

“Would you like me to stay?” Steve looked confused. Bucky was quiet. His voice was small, but deep. It sounded like he had swallowed glass. His eyes were red rimmed, his face dark and almost gaunt. The usually sleek angles of Bucky’s face looked too sharp, pulling his flesh thin. It looked like he hadn’t slept in days, even though this was the first bad day in a while. 

“Yes. I always want you to stay. For anyone to stay. HYDRA was so isolating. I still feel that emptiness some days. If I wanted to be alone you wouldn’t be able to find me. The thing is, I want to be seen by you.” He swallowed thickly. “That’s why I stay next to you and sit on the fridge and wander looking like I’m searching for something. It’s not flashbacks I’m seeing; I’m trying to find an answer in the memories. I’m stuck in those memories and trying to climb out to you.” He finished. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I’m so sorry—“

“Don’t say you’re sorry. Everyone is always sorry. Just say you’ll be here. Stay and hug me. I don’t want to be… I don’t want them to be able to take me away.” Bucky avoided Steve’s eyes. They were too blue. Too shiny. Too good. How could he look at Steve with such an empty look when Steve was so full?

“I’ll stay here, Buck. I promise.”


End file.
